


Well, Not Exactly

by Talullah



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hot afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, Not Exactly

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was not betaed!
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

It was hot and damp when I entered her apartment, as always. I threw myself over her couch wishing that my hair would stop clinging to my skin for one tiny moment. I really should have picked another state when I moved into this country.

I lifted my legs and placed my feet on her coffee table, just as if it were my own. Funny how one as uptight as myself would feel at home so quickly, so easily, but I had no problem in letting myself in, picking up her cat and sink in her couch, trying to imagine the heat leaving my body. She was walking around the place, storing the groceries we had just bought. As a semi-permanent guest I knew should do my share but I was too sweaty and hot. Even the cat left my lap after a few moments. Too hot even to think.

"B., can I get you something?" she yelled from the kitchen.

"I'm fine, thanks," I said. I could use a nice glass of cold water but this was my little self-punishment for not having helped.

She bustled around for a few more minutes and then I felt the couch give in under her weight and a wave of air freshened me somewhat.

"You should that again," I said teasingly. My sense of humour might not be the sharpest but she always gave a little snort at these pointless observations.

"Too tired, too hot," she replied. "Maybe next time." I could almost see her grin through my closed eyelids.

I shut them tighter. I liked her. I liked the way she had taken me in her home and made a place for me. I was just a friendly stranger, then I was just a friend, then I was the unasked for flat mate. She was generous and patient and didn't even seem to mind my occasional untidiness. Well, maybe not that occasional.

We sat there side by side in silence letting the afternoon cool around us. Once more, I wondered why she sat this close to me, not really touching but close, very close.

"Do you think he'll be cute?" I asked, trying to clear my mind.

"Who? The air conditioning repairman?" she asked back, lazily. Amazing how she could read my mind. Or maybe not considering that all I ever thought about was sex. Too much thinking, too little doing, in fact.

"Yeah," I retorted lazily.

"And if he was?" she asked a few minutes later.

I smiled. I always liked the way our conversations dragged under the heat, as if they could last forever. I thought about sex again. Well not exactly sex, but something quasi sexual, her naked sweaty skin sliding over mine. It didn't feel sexual. I don't know how it felt.

I tried to get back on track. "We could seduce him," I proposed in my most serious tone. She knew me well enough not to take it seriously at all.

"Isn't it too hot for that?"

"Probably." I grinned, eyes still closed.

"I've been seeing some adds," I informed her. "I'll leave here soon, you know. Then you can have the repairmen all to yourself."

"B.... you know I like to have you here. You can stay for a while longer," she offered.

"Thanks, but I'd rather be out before I exceed my welcoming." I wanted to stay, but I knew better than that.

"I'll let you know when that happens, but I'm not seeing it coming, not so soon," she reassured me, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"You're good to me," I said, recalling just how domestic I had become under her ruling. I even cooked on a couple of times ever since I had moved in with her. She was wrecking some serious havoc in my well cultivated laziness.

And then she did it. She placed her hand on my thigh. Not the casual touch between two friends who know each other well but something much more deliberate. I can't say I had not thought about. I had. Many times, just now, on the first time I had met her, when we went out to bars to meet guys. I was not in love with her, I was not even attracted to her but I had thought about it. In any case why did my skin contracted under her hand? Not repulsion, that I knew.

I sighed. She leaned over. We were still too hot and I thought I could melt under her, but it felt good. She brushed my stubborn fringe away from my forehead and blew on the thin sheet of sweat that covered it. For a moment I wished that the door bell would ring and the damned air conditioning repairman would finally come and do his thing once and for all. It would put an end to this unease. It was just a fraction of a second. I did not move, not even to breathe. She kissed me. I didn't open my eyes, not even then.

"B.?" she asked, her lips brushing mine.

I lolled my head slightly to the right, just enough to increase the contact. "Say Beatriz," I ordered. "Say it."

She said it. Well, not exactly. She said 'Beeahtricks', still close to my lips. She knew how I hated that no one could pronounce it correctly, but in that moment her North American accent was cute. I didn't want it to be cute; I want it to annoy me so that I could end this silliness before it was too late.

I opened my eyes only to find her deep blue gaze weighing upon me. Her hand slid down my temple and her thumb rubbed my lips. I had always wanted a man to do that to me. Something inside contracted into a tiny, fragile nut. She was going to make me cry but I was going to fight her first.

"Claire, do you seduce every houseguest or am I special?" I asked. I meant it to be venomous, but it came out in a flaky tone, something that could be even one of my feeble jokes only she knew it wasn't.

She was a brave woman and didn't let me hurt her. "No," she said flatly, without backing off one inch, without even a flinch.

I bit my lower lip like some heroine of a bad romance novel. See, I did not know how to do this. I wanted to hold her and kiss her, the woman who was my friend. I wanted her to love me, but what did I know about love except failure?

"Sorry," I said, turning my face.

I thought it was ruined and I felt defeated, but she didn't turn away from me as I had expected. She hid her face in the crook of my neck and petted my thigh, just as if I was her cat.

Then she moved in closer. Her sticky skin felt just like I had imagined. Well, not exactly, it felt even better. I had imagined being touched by women before, by her even, but it had been an idle exercise, devoid of any real feeling. I had forgotten that desire has no laws, no patterns, no standards.

I shut my mind and let my body speak for itself. I suppose in that moment I knew love or something like it, but isn't that the magic of sex? Maybe it was the same for her.

"I thought you only liked men," she teased as she slid her hand inside my T-shirt.

I made an effort not to grin. "Well, not exactly."

 _Finis_  
May 2005


End file.
